


Four Walls and a Cold Bowl of Pride

by sunsetmondays



Category: MindCrack RPF
Genre: Abuse, M/M, mild violence, unlawful captivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:31:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3069977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmondays/pseuds/sunsetmondays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nebris has been in this prison for long enough. Maybe he'll finally learn to keep a hold of his pride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Walls and a Cold Bowl of Pride

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on old Crackpack stuff when they had the free for all war thing going on. The context for this is about how Nebris made a series of NPC's, one which looked suspiciously like Etho, to fight Etho. And musings came about for what would happen if Nebris made a clone of himself to do the fighting.

He should have known it wasn't a good idea to go ahead and clone himself. And he _really_ should have known it wasn't a good idea to go ahead and alter that clone so that it was superior to him in every way.

He knew dabbling with biogenesis was dangerous. 'You've got to fight fire with fire,' he had reasoned when upheld with the threat of Etho's genetically modified specimens. Deep down, he knew playing with the clone's morality wasn't a good idea. But he was expecting revolt in the form of an assassination attempt. He was more than prepared for that. Not _this_ , whatever this even was. But there was no point lamenting over what he did wrong. It had been a long time since he'd last seen the light of day and wallowing in regret was no way to escape.

The door creaked open, letting in a sliver of light. A shadowy figure slipped through the gap. The snick of a lock echoed through the darkness. Then, footsteps echoing on the concrete alongside the near-silent swish of fabric. A melody to the sinister beat. Then, they stopped.

Nebris held his breath.

"Hello, pet." Deep violet eyes blinked in front of him, casting a soft glow upon his face. Nebris kept his lips sealed. The figure chuckled and squatted down in front of him. "What? No 'hello honey, how was your day?' or any other pleasant greeting like last time?" the man said. A hand landed heavy on his shoulder, making him gasp.

He bit back a snarky retort. Nebris had had enough 'lessons' to know where that would get him. As if reading his thoughts, the man snaked his hand down his back to trace one of the raised welts. He faced the violet light and glared. The change from the darkness burned his muddy brown eyes and he struggled not to blink. This silent defiance earned him a disapproving frown before his captor's predatory grin returned.

"Now now, no need to get antsy. Food is on the way, but good boys always beg for their dinner," his clone said. His other hand wound through Nebris' hair and tugged upwards.

Nebris contemplated jerking himself away and risking skipping a meal. It wouldn't be the first time he wasn't so willing to comply with the man's wishes. The hard edges and pale outlines on his weakened frame said as such. A sharp ache followed by a low rumble in his stomach pushed away such thoughts. No, he wouldn't be able to make a pass on watery oatmeal or cold soup tonight.

Dejected, he cast his eyes down to his wrists cuffed together in his lap. Raw redness spread from below the cold metal circles. and five small finger-shaped bruises were starting to purple along his right wrist. The soft jangle of metal filled the near-silence of the room as he raised his hands. A fresh ache broke through the numbness in his bones. Nebris bit his lip to hold back a cry. The tattered remains of his pride still never liked granting his captor the satisfaction; it always had to be his stupid pride, hadn't it.

Shaky fingers reached up to undo the buckle of the clone's pants - Neatly pressed black slacks. It wasn't a surprise that some of Nebris' less sinister traits had made it through the cloning process. Still, the man couldn't help but feel like his clone was mocking him with his own habits: _'I can be just like you but so much better. You just watch me.'_

Slowly, he popped the first button before lingering on the second. For too long as granted by the painful tug of his hair. Nebris scowled then pulled the zipper. The black pants fell. Nebris stared down pale skin and the sight of his clone's white briefs and half-hard cock . Nebris pried away the tight fabric. His clone rewarded him by jerking his hips forward and unceremoniously rubbing himself against Nebris' face.

The clone laughed - a smooth but menacing sound and Nebris wondered what part of him could ever be so sadistic. He wiped away cooling wetness with the back of his hand and shot his clone an icy glare. "If I didn't know any better, I'd start to think this isn't about the sex," spat Nebris.

The clone grinned. "Of course it's not about the sex! It's never about the sex; I've got Etho for that. Now you, you're only here because killing you wouldn't be half as fun," he sneered. "Now get a move on before I think of a more interesting way to keep myself amused."

Fingers tugged at Nebris' hair, pulling at his scalp. He winced but parted his dry lips. Greeted by the scent of hot musk, Nebris took his clone's cock in his mouth

With a choked cry from Nebris, his clone began a rough pace. In and out, drawing grunts with each sharp thrust. It was brutal, just like every other moment of this dreary existence. If he still had a gag reflex, Nebris was sure he'd be choking by now. But too many uncountable days in this prison had made him accustom to the violence. Even shameful tears no longer sparked the guilt and rage that they used to.

Nebris knees scraped against the concrete with each rough thrust. His clone continued on, heedless to Nebris' suffering. If anything, the clone enjoyed it more when he suffered. Even Nebris' own perverse desires failed to compare. He didn't dare to think what the other man put Etho through. The clone had bragged enough about his white-haired conquest. Nebris could only hope what the clone called 'love' held any ounce of kindness.

With a moan, the man pulled Nebris off his cock, now glistening and red with spit. Nebris gasped for air, eyes closed and watering. Another moan, then thick hot come spattered across his face and dribbled down his chin. His clone chuckled. "Do you think I taste good, pet?" he laughed. "I know Etho says I do."

"Always," spat Nebris.

His clone snorted and with a loud thump, kicked Nebris in the ribs. Nebris doubled over with a cry, a hot ache spreading through his chest. "Fuck you," he panted, face scraping against the floor.

"I hope you're not hungry." Footsteps, the heavy creak of hinges, and a loud bang.

Nebris cursed in the darkness. Nothing more filling than a fresh, delicious cold bowl of pride.


End file.
